


Recollections

by Hexmage



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Gen, [viktor voice] "emotions? don't have 'em.", viktor and blitz need a canonical father/son relationship but riot's never gonna give it to us
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 07:34:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14159880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hexmage/pseuds/Hexmage
Summary: Viktor answers questions about his past to someone who was there.





	Recollections

There was a knock at the door.

Viktor got up from his workbench, back making a crescendo of pops as he stretched. How long had he been working for? He could see that it was dark out through a grimy window, but that offered no insight. Zaun’s perpetual haze, combined with the rapidly-approaching winter, made it so it could be four in the afternoon or one in the morning.

He made his way to the laboratory’s door, fastening his mask as he went. The door’s peephole had been fogged over, but Viktor could see a gold-colored blur standing outside. He opened the door and stared.

Blitzcrank’s cerulean eyes stared back.

* * *

 

“Blitzcrank,” Viktor said, swallowing heavily. He would _not_ let emotions affect his speech. Even if Blitzcrank, part of the reason why he had become the Machine Herald, was standing on his doorstep.

“Machine Herald,” the automaton responded. “I have a query that no one else seems willing to answer.”

Ah. Robotics. Robotics was an easy topic, with no emotional ties. Perhaps Blitzcrank needed a replacement part that Piltover couldn’t produce. He’d gone to Piltover after the trial - the automaton had wanted to see the world and experience all it had to offer with his new-found sentience.

“Of course. Ask away.”

“Are you my creator?”

* * *

 

Viktor clenched his robotic fist, attempting to prevent memories from overwhelming him. The trial… the ruling… no matter. He was a different man now.

“Blitzcrank, this conversation is unsuitable for a doorstep. Come inside… please.”

Blitzcrank obliged, bustling into the laboratory. Viktor pulled the chair he had been previously sitting in over to a stretch of cleared floor and gestured for Blitzcrank to sit. The logical part of his mind said that Blitzcrank didn’t need to sit - and that he, as a robot that was only as tall as Viktor’s chest but was at least twice as wide as Viktor’s thin frame, would look ridiculous in a small metal chair - but another portion of him won out. It was… the polite thing to do.

“We are inside now, Herald-“

“Please,” Viktor said quickly, “call me Viktor.”

“We are inside now, Viktor. Can you answer my query now?”

“Yes. I-“ he paused. “I did create you. I was… the project leader.”

“Why did Stanwick Pididly claim credit?”

“I… Blitzcrank, I do not know.”

Viktor smoothed back his hair with his third arm - an old nervous tic.

“Why did no one else join your lawsuit?”

“I believe they were bribed. Pididly offered me money to keep silent, but I didn’t take it. I couldn’t take it- it went against…” he trailed off, aware of how pitiful he must sound. Would Blitzcrank even notice? Or care?

The laboratory echoed with the soft clicking and hissing of Blitzcrank’s steam-powered machinery. Viktor looked down at his hands, noting that his right was jittering ever-so-slightly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Viktor froze. Blitzcrank seemed so _human_ , in one sense of the word. He could be imagining it, but something in the automaton’s voice seemed pleading. He had made a mistake, hadn’t he - leaving Blitzcrank out in the cold because of his own selfish and all-too-human emotions… the very things he’d wished to eradicate.

His lips pressed together underneath his mask. What could he say? There were plenty of excuses. Plenty of justifications. He wouldn’t have to talk about his emotions, then. Damnable things. But Blitzcrank, as a being he had helped create, deserved better than an excuse.

When he spoke, his voice was low and quiet. “I thought it would do more harm than good. Your memories… You first became sentient before Stanwick,” _stole you, took you_ , “claimed creatorship. He knew enough to tamper with your memory banks. He couldn’t change your memories to make him your creator in them. He wiped the first months of your sentience. You couldn’t testify for anything but your own personhood, then.”

He paused. “So you did.”

Blitzcrank sat, silent. Viktor’s hand shook.

“My attorney dropped the case when I could no longer pay,” he said flatly. “The verdict was decided soon after. Your trial began.”

He was almost done with his retelling - just one or two more scenes until the present.

“I went into seclusion. I’m certain the papers have informed you on the rest.”

Viktor realized a moment too late how harsh his words must have sounded. But his past was something he hated to dwell on - and what was Blitzcrank if not a physical reminder of that?

He stood tall, waiting for the automaton’s reply. He didn’t waver, even as Blitzcrank got up from the chair. But instead of heading for the door, Blitzcrank shuffled his way towards Viktor - and looped his mechanical arms around Viktor’s chest.

“I have observed that fleshlings participate in the act known as “hugging” when one or more parties is experiencing severe emotions. It seems to alleviate said emotion.”

Viktor made a noise that was a cross between a strangled laugh and sob. “Yes… that’s true.”

Blitzcrank released his hold on Viktor and moved to leave. “Thank you for your time, Viktor.”

It took a moment for the Herald to reply. “…Thank you, too.”

Before Blitzcrank shut the door behind him, Viktor blurted out four words: “You’re always welcome here.”

The automaton’s response was a simple dip and rise of his head, but the meaning was clear.


End file.
